


Apple Scrumping

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: scarvesnhats, Fluff, Happy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:31:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8361025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: Remus and Sirius pick apples in the Potter orchard.  That is to say, Remus picks apples; Sirius is 'helping.'





	

Remus blinked in the glare of bright autumn sunshine as he plucked another apple from the tree, before turning to deposit it in the basket Sirius was holding behind him.

‘How can it be so bright and still be cold?’ he pondered, scanning the tree to check if there were any more apples within reach.

‘Dunno,’ shrugged Sirius. ‘Must be something to do with… weather,’ he suggested, taking one hand off the basket and waving it about vaguely.

‘Ah, yes, why didn’t I think of that?’ smiled Remus. ‘Where would the world be without your fascinating scientific insights?’

‘I shudder to think,’ said Sirius. ‘Not that you should be complaining. The autumn chill does wonders for your complexion.’

‘It does?’

‘Yes, it does,’ confirmed Sirius. ‘Makes your cheeks go all rosy.’ He pressed his nose against the side of Remus’ face. ‘All rosy and sweet, like an apple.’

‘Piffle,’ muttered Remus, batting him away affectionately. ‘Frostbite is not my idea of a good look. You’re not exactly helping either,’ he added as he reached for another apple.

‘I’m holding the basket!’ announced Sirius indignantly. ‘Without me you’d have to throw the apples into a basket on the ground, and then they’d get all bruised, and that would _never_ do.’

‘I could have charmed the basket to hover at the right height,’ said Remus.

‘Ah, but you see this way, you get the basket and my charm to go with it,’ Sirius told him. ‘Which is so much better.’

‘Well, obviously.’ Remus laughed and gave Sirius a brief kiss on the tip of his nose. ‘I think we’ve got them all off this tree.’

‘Nuh-uh,’ said Sirius, pointing upwards. ‘You missed that one.’

‘I can’t reach that one.’

‘You could if you stretched.’

‘You get it. You’re taller than me.’

‘But you’re standing nearer.’

Remus sighed and relented, standing on tip-toes and stretched to reach the apple that was just a little too high up. As he reached out, the bottom of his jumper rode up slightly, exposing a couple of inches of skin. The sight of uncovered Moony-body was far too tempting for Sirius, and he dropped the apple-basket before grabbing Remus.

‘Eeeii!’ shrieked Remus, doubling up in shock. ‘Your hands are _freezing_ , Padfoot.’

‘Aw, they’re not that bad,’ said Sirius, rubbing Remus’ stomach. ‘You can warm ‘em up for me.’

‘They are like lumps of lead,’ contradicted Remus, struggling to get away. ‘Why don’t you get yourself some mittens?’

Sirius stopped trying to molest Remus and looked solemn. ‘Real men do not wear mittens, Moony.’

‘Real men do not base their masculinity on their choice of knitwear,’ said Remus. ‘And I see you dropped the basket. Useless article.’

‘’M not useless, Moony,’ said Sirius, spinning Remus around by the shoulders and pushing him towards the tree trunk. ‘In fact, you’ve always found me _quite_ useful for some things.’

‘Well, there is that,’ conceded Remus as Sirius started nuzzling into his neck and pressing against him. ‘But we haven’t got time for this. Prongs will be upset if we don’t find enough apples for his home-made cider.’

‘Not half as upset as our stomachs’ll be if we actually drink the stuff,’ said Sirius. ‘And you know how he always forces me to drink far too much of his foul home-brews.’

‘Hmm, yes. Shocking the way Prongs stuns you, and then pours alcohol down your throat.’

‘Isn’t it just? I’ll be poisoned and you’ll have to save me by giving me the kiss of life.’

‘I’m not kissing you if you get poisoned.’

Sirius pulled back and looked shocked. ‘You wouldn’t kiss me if I got poisoned?’

‘No, of course, not,’ said Remus simply. ‘Because then I’d get poisoned too, wouldn’t I? Far more sensible to call for a Healer. Or maybe try to make you vomit.’

‘You have no romance in your soul, Remus Lupin, none whatsoever.’

‘And you have no sense in your brain, so it all evens out,’ grinned Remus. ‘Anyway, if you’re so convinced that Prongs’ cider is potentially lethal, why were you encouraging him?’

‘Well, I should have thought _that_ was obvious,’ said Sirius, leaning towards him again. ‘The orchard is well out of sight of the house, so it gives me the chance to snog you senseless with having to worry about offending Prongs and Wormtail’s delicate sensitivities.’

‘Mmm, now that _does_ sound like a good plan,’ agreed Remus, running his fingers through Sirius’ hair and kissing him softly. ‘Won’t Prongs be terribly disappointed about the lack of alcohol though?’

‘Nah, he’ll be alright,’ whispered Sirius, breathing warm air onto Remus’ neck. ‘Him and Wormtail are off doing something unspeakable with elderberries as we speak.’

‘So you were hoping,’ Remus asked between planting a row of kisses up the side of Sirius’ face, ‘that we could do something unspeakable with apples?’

‘Well, I was thinking we’d do the unspeakable stuff with each other, but if you want to work in some kinky apple sex games, I don’t mind giving it a try.’

‘That’s enough talking for now, Padfoot,’ said Remus firmly.

And for a long time, it was.


End file.
